


Dear Adora: Letters From Space

by PettiSmith



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, Canon Era, Canon Lesbian Relationship, F/F, Fanart, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Lesbian Adora (She-Ra), Lesbian Catra (She-Ra), Lesbian Sex, Lesbians in Space, Love Confessions, Love Letters, No Lesbians Die, POV Adora (She-Ra), POV Catra (She-Ra), Pining, Redemption, Smut, Trauma, catradora
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:15:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26270983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PettiSmith/pseuds/PettiSmith
Summary: "I’ve never been devoted to anything…other than you. So, I’ve decided to use this stupid journal to talk to you instead. If I’m going to die here, I’d like for my last words to have been saved for you, even if you’ll never see them."**Catra finds herself writing some seriously angsty (and naughty) letters to Adora while trapped on Horde Prime's space station, revealing details of their past and hopes for the future. Lots of feelings. Lots of yearning.Will Adora ever write back?
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 159
Kudos: 428





	1. Devotion

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to fill in some gaps from the past and also round out a little more of Catra's path to redemption. When did Catra really start pining for Adora? When did Adora clue into her own feelings? What did they fantasize about? That kind of stuff. Angst ahead!

Do you know what it’s like to feel disconnected from everyone and everything around you? Empty, hollow, numb?

I do.

It feels like being cast into outer space, your sudden insignificance evident amongst millions of stars and planets. 

I know this comparison to be true because that’s where I am now—fucking outer space.

And I’ve officially lost my mind because here I am writing a letter addressed to you that you will never read. Horde Prime, Mr. Almighty himself, so graciously gave me a pen and notebook to “record a daily devotional,” which apparently will “eradicate my darkness, making room for his light.” Hah. That asshole.

This is him, by the way:

Anyway, I’ve never been _devoted_ to anything…other than you. So, I’ve decided to use this stupid journal to talk to you instead. If I’m going to die here, I’d like for my last words to have been saved for you, even if you’ll never see them.

Something deep inside of me hurts when I think of you. It’s an ache that radiates through my bones. But…you know how sometimes when you get a bruise, a deep purple one, you can’t stop poking it, over and over? That’s how it is for me. I think, maybe, I just like knowing I can make myself feel something, even if it is pain. So, I keep thinking about you, over and over.

I’ve been up here for a while now, poking that bruise. And you know what? Turns out hurt is not hate. Yeah, I figured that out on my own. Impressed?

I don’t hate you Adora. I kind of wish I could though… Is that stupid? Of course, it is.

I mean, I’ve tried pretty damn hard to make you my enemy over these last 3 years. If you were really reading this, I know exactly what your dumb face would look like right now. You’d be holding in a laugh, raising an eyebrow like, “Uh, understatement of the century!”. And you wouldn’t be wrong. I wasn’t ready to let you go completely when you chose your side. When you left me for _them_. Guess I thought, keep your friends close and your enemies closer. I wanted you as close as possible, even if sometimes that meant having your hands around my throat, my claws at your back.

Did you know that the opposite of love is indifference? Shadow Weaver taught me that. And…I could never be indifferent towards you, Adora. So, I went with anger. I’m trying to sort that out now, what that means. I don’t think I’m ready to understand.

So…

What are you doing right now? Well, I can probably guess… Sparkles is here in Prime’s Fancy Space Prison so you’re doing something dumb to plan her rescue. I wish I could stop you from hurting yourself—from putting yourself last on your own list. You were always a dramatic hero, even when you were actually a dramatic villain fighting for the Horde. (Still can’t believe it took you so long to clue into that.) You just had to be the leader, the one to take charge and protect those behind you. We all made fun of you, ya know? You’d get ready in the morning and talk to yourself in the mirror, shooting little finger guns at your reflection. *Pew Pew*. Yeah, we saw all of that. The others called you a show-off, but I knew you came by it honestly. You really did want to be the best so that you could defend us, your team. It was never about you.

I wish you would make it about you though. On the nights I can’t sleep, which are most of them, I stay up wondering—if you were more selfish—would you have chosen differently? Would you have chosen me? Ugh. That’s wishful thinking. Because that would mean, in your heart of hearts, you want me…the way I want you.

I know you don’t now. Want me, I mean. But didn’t you? Before you left…we felt, I don’t know, the same about each other.

Remember when you sprained your wrist and I had to help you with everything for a couple weeks? I teased you about being needy, but it felt so good to be there for you. That first night, I helped you undress before curfew, easing you out of your fitted shirt, your hair falling loose from its tie and perfuming the air around us with lavender. Somehow, your hair always smelled amazing but especially when you let it down. I could hear your heart racing as I moved your hair off your shoulders and worked your sports bra over your head. Can’t keep much from these ears, ya know.

We didn’t say a word through the process, but the silence was packed with language. You leaned into the pressure of my fingertips as I shifted your pants down your hips… then your underwear. I was so nervous that you would see my tail bristle and call me out. But you didn’t. I felt pretty clumsy trying to slip your nightwear over your curves. I just...didn’t want to cover you back up, to be honest.

When we climbed into the bunk that night, you finally whispered, “thank you”. Every inch of my body throbbed at the sound of your voice. Heat pooled in the pit of my stomach and spread further down between my legs.

I stayed up all night trying to convince myself that it was nothing.

But the next day, it was the same. And the next. I’d help you undress and redress, each time we would stay completely silent through the process, but I would listen to your heart and know that mine was pounding in rhythm with yours.

Two weeks went by, your wrist healed enough to do those things on your own. I’ll never forget the last night that I helped you undress, before the medic had cleared you (but we both knew you were better). I expected the same loud silence as I stripped your clothes off of you, but your eyes looked different, more focused. I could tell you were holding a thought in your mouth and it made me so fucking nervous. My throat felt tight and my stomach flipped, preparing myself for the worst. But before I could help you into your nightwear, you leaned forward and spoke, softly, your breath against my ear, and you asked if you could help me undress too. My chest honestly felt like it was going to explode. The blood rushed out of my head. My legs felt like they might actually give out. But I finally managed to nod, thankfully. Hah.

The way your hands worked, slowly but with purpose. Fuck. I wished it would last forever. The feeling of your soft skin grazing over mine, I can almost feel your touch now when I close my eyes. A purr rumbled in my chest; I saw your lips twist into a smirk at the sound of it, but I didn’t care. I kind of like when you’re cocky, although I’ll never really tell you that. When we were both completely undressed, you let your hands linger on my hips for a second and then you whispered, “Good,” under your breath. I still don’t know if you meant to say that or if you knew I could hear you. The fur on my neck stood on end.

_“Good.”_

It did feel good, you looked good, everything was… good.

Your cheeks were so flushed, and your soft blue eyes were almost completely consumed by their black centers. I replay that moment in my head, stretching my ears to hear that “good” again. And… I think, maybe I'm ready to be good, for you. But it’s too late, isn’t it?

That’s all for now, I guess. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, if I'm still here.

Goodnight, Adora.


	2. Wishes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra remembers what it felt like to be alone with Adora. Or... stars, cake & risks.

I think another day has passed. How would I know? I pace the corridors for hours, but time stands still. I stare out of the port window, counting stars until my eyes cross.

Did you know that people make wishes on stars? Horde Prime says that a wish is just a misplaced prayer. Gross. I think I’ll stick to wishing. Spiting Horde Prime is one of my new hobbies. You aren’t surprised, are you?

What do you wish for, Adora? I’ll tell you mine, if you tell me yours. Apparently, revealing a wish means it won’t come true.

But you’ll never see this, right?

I wish I could disappear or maybe that I never existed at all. I wish you weren’t on your way here to rescue your friend and risk your life.

But, on the brightest stars, I wish for you, Adora. Over and over.

Whatever.

I talked to Sparkles today. Glimmer, I mean. Like, really talked to her. You proud? She’s not too bad, for a princess, I guess. She’s pretty scrappy, actually. I get why you like her more than me. She said you guys have a lot of fun together, when you’re not fighting against the Horde and, well, me. I guess you all would stay up late eating cake? Hah. You always loved to eat, even our chalky ration bars. Kyle always gave you his extras. Guess that’s why he looks like he does, and you look like…you do.

The point is, it got me thinking about some of the things we used to do together for “fun”. Our special you-and-me things. I mean, we didn’t have cake. But we still had something, right? Remember when Lonnie shared her books with us? Or maybe we just stole them. Probably that. You know, she had that secret stash of novels under her bunk? Anyway, you’d read out loud to me on our perch above the Fright Zone when we could escape for a few minutes. I always looked forward to being alone with you, having you all to myself. 

There was that one story, fuck, I can’t even remember what it was called. The guy was basically a monster in the beginning…and the woman was so strong and brave while facing his trauma with him. He eventually let down his walls for her and she was so kind but also so tough through the process. I think he kind of helped her face some of her own demons, too? Maybe? I don’t know. He saw her for more than everyone else did, just like she saw him for more. It wasn’t easy but they, uh, they fell in love.

Do you remember? Hah. Probably not.

We’d climb up to our perch together, I’d rest my head on your lap and close my eyes while you read, stealing quick glances at you when you were lost in the story. Your face got so serious when you were really invested in something. Your eyebrows furrowed when even the most minor character was in trouble. It was actually pretty fucking cute. You’d absent-mindedly run your free hand through my hair, and I’d hold my breath, afraid you’d stop the moment you realized what you were doing. But, just once, I had to risk it. I rolled over onto my side, and pressed in closer to you, deeper. Turned toward your waist, the right side of my face still rooted at the top of your thighs, it almost hurt to be that close to you. Right there. A dull ache throbbed between my legs. You kept your fingers threaded in my hair, but I could tell that my adjustment made your pulse quicken. Your chest was rising and falling just a little more rapidly than usual. I could see the definition of your toned stomach muscles through the thin cotton of your shirt and I couldn’t stop myself from tracing the lines with my fingertips, extending my nails just enough. You shivered but you kept reading. Maybe you were worried I would stop too? I didn’t.

Anyway, uh, I would imagine the story was about us. I’m the monster, obviously. You must think that too. But then…why do you still look at me the way you do? Even when I’m at my worst. I don’t know what it is, but I can’t shake the feeling that you still believe in me, that you see _me_ for more. I don’t know why, Adora. I _am_ a monster.

So, it’s probably for the best that I’m never coming back from this. I ruin everything, I push everyone away. If Glimmer weren’t in a cell, she probably wouldn’t even want to talk to me. In that way, she’s kind of my prisoner. Ugh.

If you’re really on your way here right now, like I’m sure you are, I hope you save her and get the fuck out of here as quick as possible. Don’t try to be some stupid superhero. Just…go home and eat cake. Be happy.

Maybe that’s what you wish for? Happiness? I hope when I’m gone, you truly find it. It hurts to think about how maybe I'm the one standing between you and happiness. If I could share a little of my selfishness with you, I’d do it in a second.

Please, Adora, do something for yourself for once.

Hah. If you could read this, you’d probably say something stupid like “Sometimes I eat the last slice of cake! That’s selfish!”. You’re an idiot. 

This is you and your dumb food…

Damn. It just occurred to me that Horde Prime might actually kill me tonight and my *final act* would have been drawing you with a huge piece of cake. Hah. That’s pretty grim. I kind of like it.

I don’t really know what he’s still stringing me along for. I get keeping Sparkle _s_ for collateral. But I’m useless to him. I’m biding my time by pretending I have vital information, but he sees right through it. It’s obvious. So, there’s something else—another reason for keeping me around, alive.

Did you know he calls you mine? Of course, you don’t know. But he does. In his pompous affectation he says, “ _Your Adora_ ”. I hate him so much but something about that sinks deep into my stomach and stays there. I can’t explain it exactly. The way he says it, it’s almost a threat. But when I repeat it back to myself, “Your Adora”, it makes my ears hot.

Don’t worry. I know you’re not really mine.

But… I am yours.

Does that make sense? I’m such a fucking idiot.

That’s all for now… Goodnight, Adora.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Definitely a bit upbeat for this chapter's mood but Adore You by Harry Styles was on rotation for this one. The heart wants what it wants!


	3. Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra shares her dreams and daydreams with Adora. Or... kissing, touching & jealousy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to stretch the canon timeline out a bit to really expand on Catra's angst, processing and..fantasizing. The thirst is real. The end is near.

It’s day 666 in outer space. Or that’s what it feels like, at least. Things have gotten even more tense up here, hard to believe. I'm seeing your ghost everywhere. And the fucking clone cult is always creeping around, spying on me. Their eyes change a bit when Horde Prime is using them as a looking glass. It’s all pretty eerie.

And do you have any idea how unnerving it is to walk around with a hundred Hordaks on your heels? Everywhere I turn, I see his face.

The real Hordak is here too. Maybe you already know that? Not sure what kind of intel The Rebellion has gained on this whole space ransom thing. Doesn’t seem like you guys were very good at gathering intel…or executing strategy. Sorry, but it’s true. We were kicking your butt.

So, yeah, Hordak is here but Horde Prime did something to him, “cleansed” him, or some bullshit. He has this _purification_ pool. I don’t know exactly how it works but it seems like once someone goes under the electric neon sludge, they’re never the same. I don’t know how much these clones can really feel, but it looks painful as hell. And then Horde Prime seems to access further control over them through a port in the clones’ necks? I think it’s how they recharge and connect to the “hive mind.” Anyway, that’s what happened to good ol’ Hordak. He’s basically a mindless robot now. Green glowing eyes, empty head, calling everyone “Brother." Not me though. They call me “Little Sister." Yeah, it’s disgusting.

It’s not like I want them to call me by my real name though. I don’t want my name in any of their mouths. Not Horde Prime, not Hordak, not the clone drones. Honestly, I don’t want anyone to call me anything. Except you.

Maybe this is weird, okay, yeah, it definitely is…but I love when you say it. My name, I mean. The way you say it is just…different. Even when we’re in battle, it’s like you believe my name is a full sentence. That’s it, nothing before or after, just “Catra.”

And I guess, I’ve been stuck here for too long, losing my mind, letting my imagination run wild, because I’ve started to wonder what it would be like to hear you say my name in other… circumstances.

Do you know what I mean? Why am I actually embarrassed to write about this?? I’m just talking to myself anyway!

Out with it then, right? Hah.

I think, well, I _know,_ I’d like to hear you say my name while I made you feel…good. Like the night we undressed each other but…I want more than that. I dream about it sometimes and I wish I could live in those dreams forever. Even though I know it’s not real, and never will be.

I want to touch you and see your powder-blue eyes shift to focus with that fiery intensity. More than anything, I want to kiss you, Adora. Every inch of you. You know that soft spot on your neck, just under your jaw? There. And those lines of hard muscle that cut down from your hips into a sharp V shape? There. Your fingertips. The corners of your mouth. I want your full lips on mine, needy and impatient. I want our bodies completely bare, tangled up with nothing between us. I want to show you how perfectly we fit together. I want to feel the weight of you on top of me. I want to know just how strong your hands really are, just how deep your fingers can go.

What’s it like to be full of you? What’s it like to be completely overwhelmed by each thrust?

I… I want you to fuck me. I want you to be rough.

What do you sound like when you come? Do you moan? Whimper? 

I want to show you that I can make you as wet as you’ve made me. I want to know how you taste and feel against my tongue. I want _your_ mouth, _your_ tongue, between _my_ thighs. 

Not that I deserve you, but that’s what I want. All of you.

Do you ever, uh, think about that stuff? Or, I don’t know, maybe you’re already doing all of that stuff with someone else. Glimmer, maybe? Seems like she’d be into it. Or one of the other Princesses? I saw you dance with the flowery one at the Princess Prom. Maybe that big buff lady from the Crimson Waste? I could see you going for her, which means I’m probably not even your type. Wow. Thinking about you with someone else actually makes me feel kind of sick. But I do want you to be happy. Doesn’t mean I need to think about it.

UGH. This is how I feel right now…

Anyway. We’ve talked about kissing before. Remember? Two of the older cadets were caught making out in the armory and, suddenly, all of the other cadets were buzzing with hormonal energy. Kyle couldn’t stop staring at Rogelio. Those losers. But the rules about *physical intimacy* were so strict. The two boys that were caught, we never saw them again, did we? But it didn’t stop everyone from talking about kissing. You teased me and said my fangs would probably draw blood. I’ll never forget the look on your face when I pressed you up against the lockers and growled, “Wanna find out?” Your cheeks looked like they might catch fire they were so red. And, maybe I imagined it, but your eyes darted to my mouth as you pulled your lower lip into yours, saturating it with your tongue, as if maybe you _did_ want to find out?

But. The rules. You would never break the big rules back then. So, you just wrapped your arm around my neck, roughed up my mane, and said, “I knew you liked me.” 

Well, yeah. Duh, Adora. I like you. I want that kiss. I want so much more than that.

I’m starting to, I don’t know, wish too much on those damn stars. Even if I’m going to die here, I want to die better than I was. I want to have deserved you, even if I never see you again. I want you to be…proud of me?

None of this matters. There is nothing I can do now, right?

...Right?

My head hurts. Horde Prime wants me to, uh, talk to Sparkles in the morning… He’s onto you, Adora. Why are you like this?

Maybe it already is morning though. Uh. It’s so disorienting up here in outer space, in the company of all these clones and your ghost.

We used to wonder what was outside of the Fright Zone. Can you believe that?

So much has changed.

Okay. Maybe I should try to sleep for a little while. I swear I can almost hear you mutter “aww, a cat nap” under your breath. I’m losing it.

If I sleep at all, I hope I see you in the dream place, Adora.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Definitely was listening to Jealous by Ingrid Michaelson for chapter 3. Catra just can't seem to keep the demons out of her dreams.


	4. Acceptance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra hurries to express her remorse. Or... apologies, confessions & goodbyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is an intentional shorty because of...reasons. :'( One more to go!

I don't know how much time I have. Definitely not enough to tell you everything I wish I could. Guess that'll be my last regret.

I just had to do something and, uh, I don’t think I’ll be around much longer. Fuck, it was good to hear your voice over the comm system. It was just for a minute, but it filled me all the way up.

I guess you’re probably with Sparkles now? I hope so, at least. I wasn’t sure if it would work but I knew I had to do something to save her…to save you, really. One good thing. You and I promised that we would look out for each other, remember? I’m…I’m sorry I hadn’t made good on that. I felt so betrayed by you for so long, I couldn’t acknowledge my own part in it. And I’m so fucking sorry.

When I saw the opportunity to transport Glimmer to your spaceship, I just had to take it. Now you don’t need to come here, Adora. Now you’re free. You can go back home. Be happy.

Please...be happy.

Ugh.

I'm not dumb. I know the battle isn't over because of some stupid little thing I did. I just...I don't know. I hope you realize it's not all on you. You don't have to be the one to sacrifice everything.

He’s scared of you, ya know? Horde Prime, I mean. I can tell.

And that’s why he’s pretty mad at me. I think he was counting on you showing up on his turf so that he’d have all of the control. But I messed that up. Now you have absolutely no reason to show up here. It’s just me and the clones, nothing worth saving.

So, I’m actually locked in a cell right now, which is a first. He had been letting me roam the corridors of the station before, ya know? But I guess I fucked up for the last time and now I’m officially his captive. Woohoo. That’s why I think this will have to be a short letter. My last letter. To be honest, I’m only writing in this stupid journal right now to calm my nerves. Yeah, I’m nervous. Me. Hard to believe, huh?

I really didn’t think I would be nervous to die. I actually… I don’t know, I kind of thought it would be easy. Easy for me, easy for everyone else. Cutting myself out of the equation just seemed like the right thing to do. Ever since I’ve been up here, I’ve been anticipating the day Horde Prime would get rid of me for good. And now that the time has come, I’m sad?

Ugh. I blame the stars. It was all those damn wishes. I really let myself think too much up here. I started fantasizing about earning your forgiveness. About a future…with you. About being a better person. And it all messed with my head. I started thinking, maybe I actually do want to live. And now? It’s too late.

But I don’t think Horde Prime is going to do this quickly. He has some other plan for me first. He says I can still be of use to him. I have no clue what the fuck he’s going to do but I know it’ll be painful. That’s his style. He preaches peace while waging war. It’s insane.

Pain is what I deserve though.

I know you’ll never see this letter. I know this journal was a dumb idea. But, for what it’s worth, I found myself through it, I think. For the first time, in a long time, I recognize myself. I know who I want to be. Good timing, huh?

So, Adora, wherever you are, I hope some part of you knows that…I love you. I always have. You are my person. Some people may question whether I have a soul or not, but if I do, I think we’re soulmates. There’s a part of me that believes you feel the same way. I’m going to focus on that part until the very end.

Fuck. Okay, he’s calling for me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe a little on-the-nose but I feel like To Die For by Sam Smith sits right for Ch. 4.


	5. Dear Catra: Letters From Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dust has settled after the war and Catra finally asks Adora to write back. Or...past, present & future.

Hi. You’re fast asleep beside me right now. I know you hate to hear this (which really only makes it more fun to say) but you look so cute. Your tail is wrapped around my leg and you’re purring so gently. You almost look innocent. Almost. Melog is pressed right up against you, like always. I’ll never take these little moments for granted. Ever. I’m soaking it all up: The warmth your body radiates when you’re asleep, the way the moons cast prisms through the crystals hanging over us, the view from our bedroom window of the lush sky-island that overtook Prime’s space station when…everything ended so that everything could begin. 

Can you believe this is _our_ bed? Ours. It feels amazing to climb under the covers every night with you. Sleep doesn’t always come easy for us, sometimes we…play. But some nights we just hold each other, silently, until the morning light fills up the room. I think that’s okay. We’ll be okay.

But we weren’t okay for so long.

When Glimmer found your journal in that cell on Horde Prime’s space station, she tried to leave it behind. She didn’t want to cross a line with you. She really does respect you so much. But she said something pulled at her chest, telling her to grab the notebook and hold it tight. I guess, at that point, she wasn’t sure if we were actually going to succeed in our mission to rescue you. It was a long shot. Our comms had stopped working, we were all separated on the station, and she had no idea what he did to you after you, ya know, risked everything to get her out of there.

So, yeah. She pocketed your journal and then stashed it on Darla when we had all finally escaped Horde Prime’s grasp. Still, we weren’t sure if you would make it at that point.

Catra…I was so scared. More scared than I had ever been. We’ve talk about this already, honestly, I feel like I can’t stop talking about. I thought I had lost you for good. I thought I had failed. You felt so small in my arms. When the healing powers worked, when your eyes slowly blinked open, when you finally said my name… I knew I would never let you go, ever again. That’s a promise. You _are_ mine and I _am_ yours.

I hate that it took us so long to get here. I hate that we left a trail of pain and destruction. But I am trying so hard to focus on the future. Our future.

Did you know that promises are sometimes called vows? Netossa and Spinerella said so. When they got married, they vowed special things to each other, and now they uphold those things, every single day. I want that with you. Vows, promises, every day. I’m not proposing to you via journal entry! Or am I? Don’t put it past me! I mean, have you seen how hot you look in a suit?! I have it pretty bad, don’t I? I just don’t want to hold anything in anymore. I want to be honest with you, always. I want forever with you. All of that stuff.

But, first, we should address this journal. That’s the plan. When we all settled back in at Bright Moon and Glimmer returned it to you (unopened, she swears), you kept it hidden from sight for weeks. I pressed you about it a couple times, and I’m sorry if I got too pushy. I’m proud of how far we’ve come with our boundaries. I eventually just told myself that your journal was for your eyes only and that was okay! We are allowed to have our own things, after all.

So, I was surprised when you slid it under my pillow this morning. When I woke up to find it there, you were sitting crossed-legged next to me, your bright teal and gold eyes wide, your tail softly patting the bed behind you. I didn’t know what to say and I probably sounded like such an idiot, trying to form the right words. Typical me. But you were so…sweet, you just said “Write back, okay?”

That’s what I am doing now—writing back.

I know this is a gift. I’m so thankful for it. And I want you to know how brave I think you are. For all of the big obvious reasons, but also for these little things. For letting me in when you’ve been hurt so many times. For sharing yourself with me and with our friends. I think you are amazing. Did you know that?

I spent all day with these letters. I read them over and over. I think I sat in the garden for hours, just flipping pages back and forth. I saw you watching me from a window in the high tower, ya know? You think you’re so stealthy! But I know you too well. I’m pretty sure you even sent Melog to check on me, didn’t you? I couldn’t see them but the air around me suddenly felt extra warm and good, safe.

The impressions on the journal pages are so deep. Like…literally. You press so hard with your pen. The grooves of each letter show all the way through on the reverse side of the paper. That kind of…made me sad, at first. But running my hands over the pages, feeling your pain, I think I get it. It was, uh, cathartic? I think that’s the word Perfuma keeps saying. Writing these letters was an outlet for you but also writing them with such passion, stroking the pen on the paper with that much pressure. That…helped, right? Maybe?

I don’t know exactly where to start. I guess the beginning is probably smart but I’m sure I’ll end up all over the place.

Right!

I _do_ know what it’s like to feel disconnected from everyone. I was so lonesome for you, Catra. Yeah, I was surrounded by people, but I was lonely. And that made me feel…guilty. I think it was easier to feel guilt than pretty much any other emotion, to be honest. (I’m working on that.) No one else could fill that you-shaped space in my life, in my heart. I found myself thinking about you ALL the time, longing for your presence…even in the worst ways. I wanted to rush the gates of the Fright Zone at every turn, it was so irresponsible. I wanted to see you, to hear you, be near you. I am grateful that the others reeled me in as often as they did… But if it were up to me, I would have been busting down your door, even if just to fight or, uh, wrestle with you. Gosh, we were a mess, huh?

So, that “friends close and enemies closer” thing, yep. I understand completely. I was in that same place. But I’m glad we’ve moved so far past that now. I don’t think we could get much _closer_ than we are these days…and nights. Uh, remember last night? You are full of surprises. Heh.

I guess that is, um… a good segue to this next topic. Selfishness? I did, or maybe I still do, struggle with a martyr complex. (Another Perfuma word, by the way.) I want everyone to be safe and happy and sometimes I think I need to sacrifice my own safety and happiness to achieve that. But I’m learning, I really am. I know I can ask for help or even let myself be… greedy sometimes. (Like last night. I gotta say, you are so much better than cake. So. Much. Better.)

I’m sorry, I promise that I am taking this seriously. I’m just nervous and my brain is moving faster than I can write.

Back to it.

Catra, how could I ever forget those weeks that you helped me when my wrist was sprained? I remember everything. The feeling of your fingers slipping under my shirt, the way you slid my pants all the way down my legs, even though I could have stepped out of them easily at that point. Being _worried_ you would notice that my underwear was, um, a little damp from my anticipation. And then actually _wishing_ you would notice. Losing my breath when your eyes hungrily worked their way up my entire body and locked on mine. I could see exactly what you wanted. And couldn’t you see the chill run across my skin? Didn’t you know I wanted it too? I really did. And I still do.

Everything you do is so graceful and with such intention. Don’t let it go to your head, but you’re incredibly sexy. It took all of my willpower to just stand there without touching you or asking for more, begging for it. After those two weeks passed, my willpower was shot. But I didn’t want to get in trouble or…get you in trouble, really. I thought, maybe if I just asked to undress you too, we could stay quiet enough and get away with it. I hoped I would make you feel as good as you made me feel. That’s all I wanted. I think that’s why I said “good.” I definitely didn’t mean to say it out loud. But I’m glad I did.

Gosh, I wanted to kiss you sooo bad. Stripping your extremely tight clothes off of you, standing inches away, both of us completely exposed... That was, um, let’s just say, I thought about that moment a lot. When I was alone…and missing you more than I could handle.

I still love undressing you. Even though sometimes we just end up literally ripping each other’s clothes off! You’ve shredded quite a few of my nice shirts. Heh. But it’s nice not worrying about keeping quiet these days.

About those wishes… I didn’t know about the stars. I’m still not used to seeing stars in our sky and I hope I never am. They are so beautiful...and now I know they are full of wishes. Your wishes. Some of the wishes you made break my heart though. I’m trying to remind myself that we have come so far but I still ache when I think of the past. I am so glad you didn’t disappear, Catra. I can’t imagine my life without you. I mean, I wouldn’t have a life without you. Even though I wasn’t wishing on stars, I did dream and hope, ya know? I was so lost and confused but deep down all I really wanted was you. It was hard to grasp what that meant. I knew I didn’t want to go back to the Horde, but I missed you so much. So, I just kept hoping you would come with me. I hoped I would wake up and you would be in bed beside me, like old times. Now I do get to wake up beside you… and it’s even better than old times.

I’m glad some wishes come true and some don’t. Weird, huh?

And, actually, now that I really think about it, I also hoped that you would love my new friends as much as I knew they would love you. Didn’t seem like we’d ever get the chance to find out, but dreams are free rein. I would just imagine an alternate universe, somewhere there wasn’t war or trauma, just road trips and best friend stuff. We’re getting that now, in this universe. Crazy. So, yeah, gotta admit I was smiling pretty big while reading about your conversation with Glimmer on the space station. Or, sorry, “Sparkles”. You’re a secret softy. Thank you for accepting their friendship and working hard to give your own. We’re all family now. It’s cool that we get to choose our families, huh? We have all chosen you.

Oh, oh, oh. I almost missed this part. Catra, you are _not_ a monster! You’re just not. Although…you’re definitely an animal in, uh, some ways? But yeah, the way you remember those moments of escape is super romantic. And it was romantic, wasn’t it? Sitting on our perch above the Fright Zone…your head in my lap, your face dangerously close to my core, my hand busy in your hair. When you turned to face me, I could feel your hot breath on that little bit of exposed flesh between the bottom of my shirt and top of my pants. I’ll admit now, I almost forgot how to read when you did that. Those were my favorite days. And you are absolutely hilarious for thinking I was “absent-mindedly” playing with your hair! Yeah right! I was basically shaking the whole time. I had to work up so much courage to do that! I can’t believe you think it was casual. Hmm...Your hair is so much shorter now, but I still love running my fingers through it, stroking the little tufts around your ears and the shorter pieces at the base of your neck, just above your scar.

I think maybe this is a good time to discuss my favorite letter you wrote. Um, wow. I think you fully know this by now, but I’m happy to tell you again, I love saying your name, especially when you make me say it. And I love when you say mine, especially when I make you say it.

I love how all of those things that we fantasized about are now our reality. I love that we get to explore each other and…make each other feel good. Finally.

Can I tell you what my favorite thing is so far? Okay, I’m going to.

I really love when you catch me off-guard, confidently mounting my waist, your mouth suddenly on mine, your fangs pulling at my bottom lip (and not drawing blood, like I teased you about all those years ago). I love how you tell me exactly what you want from me. Uh. Feeling your breath on my neck when you ask for my fingers inside of you actually makes me a little dizzy. And then pulling your underwear to the side, finding you soaking wet, sliding one and then two fingers in deep? Yeah, that is… actually making me feel a little lightheaded right now even. The way you grind your hips against my fingers as they pulse into you… the way you arch your back when the pressure is just right. Hearing you breathe out “fuck” when I start to get rough. The way you tell me when you’re ready for my mouth.

Catra…I have to confess, I was kinda nervous to go down on you the first time. Definitely not because I wasn’t ready. I’m only a little embarrassed to admit how many times I had wondered what you would taste like, feel like against my tongue. So, _ready_ is an understatement. But because, despite what you allowed yourself to believe, I had never done anything like that with anyone else. But it didn’t matter. Everything just feels so natural with you. All of it. My tongue finding your most sensitive spot, licking circles around it, feeling it swell with anticipation, while my fingers repeatedly press deeper and deeper into your middle.

And, somehow, you taste better than I could ever imagine.

My absolute favorite thing is the way you moan my name, dragging your nails across my shoulders, as you come against my tongue’s pressure. I just, I guess, I never realized how much of a turn on it is to feel at the mercy of your strength, although I guess I sought that out even in the past. Your nails dangerously scraping across my skin, just enough to scratch that itch, that craving.

Whelp. I’m super worked up now!! So, I’m going to wake you up for a little bit. It’s nearly morning anyway. I’m sure you won’t mind…

Okay. Wow. Hi. Um. Haha. You’ve run off to the kitchen now, getting us something to eat. You’re so good to me. And you’re right, I am always hungry…in more ways than one, I guess!

So…… Where was I?

Okay, I’ve made it to your last letter. That one was hard, Catra. I can’t imagine what that night was like, after you rescued Glimmer. My blood boils when I think about Horde Prime violating you, taking control of your body, using you as bait. You know, I’d get rid of him again if I could. I just…fucking hate him so much. I don’t really know what to say except…thank you. I know we’re still working through so much of what happened, how to process it all, honor our progress without living in the past.

We’re here now. Thanks to you, really.

You saved the world, Catra. (You always roll your eyes when I say that. But too bad.)

And…you saved me.

Remember when you told me to “get to the heart”? Well, I finally did. And there you were.

I love you. 

P.S. Seems like I’m supposed to doodle something? Or was that just your thing? Oh, well. Here’s us kissing. Heh.

P.P.S. I knew you liked me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pink in the Night by Mitski was the song for this last chapter! Thanks for reading along with my self-indulgent way of processing the off-screen catradora love story.

**Author's Note:**

> Think I'll post the song inspo for each chapter down here! Chapter one was: "Chinese Satellite" by Phoebe Bridgers. I would love to hear your Catradora playlist favorites!


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